


Bail Organa

by SpellCleaver



Series: Shatterpoints [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, BAMF Padmé Amidala, F/M, Gen, Padmé Amidala Lives, Padmé singlehandedly overthrows the Emperor, Post-Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-24 09:59:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15628269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpellCleaver/pseuds/SpellCleaver
Summary: In which Bail Organa saves the day.Padmé survives childbirth, and when she wakes up she's ready to take on the Emperor, bring back the Republic and verbally eviscerate her husband. AU of Revenge of the Sith.





	Bail Organa

**Author's Note:**

> There's a scene from the Darth Vader: Dark Lord of the Sith comic series in here, so if you haven't read it, all you need to know is that Vader hasn't been formally introduced to the masses yet, and his sudden appearance led to several assassination attempts being made on him.
> 
> Also, I like the theory that Padmé died because Palpatine used the japor snippet she had to somehow drain the life from her, so that's what I used while writing this, and that's why she didn't die in this.

_Bail Organa_

Everyone could die.

It was a truth that continuously dogged Bail Organa's thoughts during the war, on Christophsis, on Toydaria: He'd seen too many needless deaths, seen too many clones give their lives as if they were nothing in order to save him, seen nigh-infallible Jedi bow under the strain of deflecting too much blasterfire from too many droids.

And if ten thousand of that holy order could be wiped out in one moment, leaving the galaxy in the state he saw it in now, well that just proved his point. Anyone could die, at any place, any time.

It was not a comforting thought to have when he could hear Padmé screaming from the next room.

He winced at the sound, and Breha reached out to grasp his hand. His wife offered him a smile, but it didn't help. Nothing could.

Because Padmé, his colleague, his confidant, his _friend,_ could die any second.

Bail had insisted they bring her to Alderaan. Had insisted that his friend receive only the very best medical care for herself and her child - and the very best medical care could only be found on Alderaan.

(It could, arguably, also be found on Coruscant, but there was no way they were taking Padmé there. Not when that was strictly under their new Emperor's control.)

That didn't mean that on the journey over he hadn't paced and worried and stressed. Doubts ran in circles behind him. What if she didn't survive the long journey to Alderaan? Would it be better for her to get sub-par treatment on a closer world, or take the risk and reap the rewards? And what if her child was born early?

Padmé screamed again, and he tensed, Breha's attempts to pat him on the shoulder useless as her hand fell away. She was always so much stronger than him, so much more in control, but Padmé was her friend too, and he could feel her resolve starting to break.

"No," she murmured, though he wasn't sure he was meant to hear it. "Don't take Padmé. . . Don't take her now. . ."

Swallowing, he reached into his pocket and draw out the pendant he'd removed from around her neck. He'd seen it there earlier, when Obi-Wan had carried her off the ship, tangled in her collar. He remembered seeing her wear it all throughout the war, in the Senate, but he'd removed it the moment she lay down in the med bay. It could get caught, he reasoned to himself, choke her, cut off her air supply, and even if that didn't kill her, he didn't want to give her flashbacks to what had apparently been a very similar turn of events on Mustafar.

But he knew the real reason behind the fact he'd removed it was the _feeling_ he got around it, like it was sentient and had malicious intent. He didn't want that anywhere near Padmé and her child.

He turned it over in his hands now, squeezing the wooden charm tightly. He didn't know where it was from, nor what the symbols meant - were they sacred on Naboo? - but now that he'd already taken it, he was doubting his decision to. Padmé had always treated it like some sort of good luck charm; what would she do, without the comfort of its familiar weight against her chest?

He squeezed the snipped tighter, and Breha laid her hand atop his. "She'll be fine, Bail."

He was too tightly wound to give an answer, but he didn't need to. Because that was when Obi-Wan left the birthing room to talk to them.

"She's alive," he assured them, before Bail could ask. "She's alive and well. As are the twins."

Bail gave a sigh of relief, and he felt Breha sag with him. Padmé was well.

She would live.

And-

"Twins?"

Obi-Wan smiled - the first time Bail had seen him do so since Order 66. "Luke and Leia," he said. "Fraternal."

And then Bail realised he was crying. The tears ran down his face unashamedly, and he laughed in the clear Alderaanian air, even as the sun crested the horizon and sent shards of soft amber light to illuminate the snippet he held in his hands.

He slipped the necklace back into his pocket, no longer afraid. Padmé was alive.

The Jedi were dead. The Republic was dead.

But Padmé Amidala lived.

Hope lived.

* * *

Padmé was tired, and she was sad, but she didn't think she'd loved anyone as much as she did the children huddled against her chest.

"What happened to Anakin?" she asked quietly, careful not to wake Luke or Leia or jostle them too much.

Obi-Wan hesitated, his conflict colouring his face. He opened his mouth-

"And tell the truth. Don't you dare lie to me about what happened to my husband."

Obi-Wan shut his mouth. Swallowed.

"Master Yoda didn't want me to tell you, but. . ."

She fixed him with a glare.

". . .Anakin's still alive."

She nodded. She'd expected as much. Everyone, Republic and Separatist alike, knew that the Hero With No Fear was not an easy man to kill. "So what happened to him? He turned to the Dark Side? Where is he?"

"I don't know," Obi-Wan admitted. "Coruscant, I assume. Bail's contacts reported seeing a badly burned man with three limbs missing being escorted in a med pod to the Chancellor's personal medical facilities, with the Chancellor, now Emperor," Padmé grimaced at the word, "walking beside him. I don't know what happened after that - or how they're going to heal him."

"What did you _do_ to him?"

Obi-Wan winced, and he said slowly, "I. . . cut off his three natural limbs and left him to burn on the shores of the lava river on Mustafar."

She looked away from him at the image that sprung to mind, and unconsciously hugged her babies closer. "Obi-Wan. . ."

"I know," he said quietly. "I know it was monstrous. He was my brother, and instead of giving him a quick, merciful death, I left him to a life of torment and pain." He blinked hard, and Padmé realised with dismay that he was tearing up. _No, Obi-Wan, don't cry, don't cry, you're the strongest person I know, if you start crying I'll start crying and then-_

"But I couldn't do it," Obi-Wan finished, wiping his eyes on the cuffs of his robe. "I couldn't kill him."

Padmé held her babies even tighter. As if he was picking up on the misery in the room, Luke stirred and started wailing. Leia, sensing her brother's cries, did the same a few moments later.

"No. . ." She whispered to them, doing her best to rock them from her sitting position in the bed. Her abdomen still hurt too much for her to get up.

"Here," Obi-Wan said, and took Luke into his arms. He murmured soothing things to him, Padmé doing the same to Leia, and she felt a rush of peace waft over them, no doubt Obi-Wan doing his best to calm them down.

It was a good few minutes before it worked, and the children settled back into sleep. And it was a few minutes after that before anyone spoke again, the silence heavy with everything unsaid.

Padmé was a senator. It was her job to confront issues no one wanted to discuss. So it was her who asked, "What are we going to do now?"

"I had some ideas about that," Bail said, walking into the bedroom along with Breha. She smiled at them both, unfathomably grateful to them for all they'd done for her, and they smiled back, pulling up chairs around her bed. Obi-Wan did the same and sat himself down, Luke asleep and content in his lap.

Padmé glanced round, sure they were missing someone, and Bail explained, "Master Yoda left for exile yesterday. He knew the twins were safe with you, and he couldn't afford to linger anywhere the Sith could sense him for too long."

She nodded. "I understand. So," she said in a forcibly upbeat tone, "what's been happening since I was," _choked, betrayed, nearly killed,_ "incapacitated."

Bail opened his mouth. Foreboding prickled along Padmé's back at the look on his face. "The Chancellor," and there he seemed to take a vicious satisfaction in refusing to call him _Emperor_ , "has arrested sixty three senators on the charges of treason." He paused, grimaced, and said, "Most of them were members of the Delegation of Two Thousand, including Ivor Drake and Tanner Cadaman."

Padmé closed her eyes. "Oh." The word was an exhale. "Is there anything we can do to help them?"

Bail shook his head. "Not without being branded as traitors ourselves. We're only safe because we're popular senators, and Palpatine thinks you're dead."

She frowned. "Who thinks I'm dead? Who knows I'm _alive_?"

"The only one other than the people in the room who knows for sure that you're alive is Master Yoda. As for the people who think you're dead, we assume Palpatine and-" he swallowed, "-Anakin do. At least, we hope so. Otherwise, there hasn't been any official announcement, so as far as anyone else on Coruscant and Naboo know, you've just gone missing for several days."

"And my parents? My sister?" Her voice was quiet.

Bail shook his head. "We haven't told them you're alive."

Padmé nodded. "Okay," she said, taking a deep breath. "So, what can we do to help the others in the Delegation? Contact Mon? Warn them?"

"Actually. . ." Bail trailed off.

"What?" Padmé asked.

"We all know that Palpatine is evil," he said. "He's the Sith Lord the Jedi warned us about. He probably orchestrated the war in order to gain power, and he manipulated us into giving him more and more of it as the war went on. He's responsible for billions of deaths, has no interest in fairness or democracy, and he _will_ cause more suffering if he and his regime are allowed to continue."

Padmé tilted her head and fixed him with a look. She knew when someone was trying to persuade her of something, even if that person was as skilled an orator as Bail Organa. "What are you saying?"

"I've requested reports from all over the galaxy," he said. "My people are rescuing as many Jedi as they can," he gave Obi-Wan a nod of acknowledgement, "and we're talking to senators and politicians and other people with influence, looking to assemble a group of people who see Palpatine's evil as well as we do. It's only the first steps, but. . ."

"The first steps in what?" Padmé asked bluntly. "Stop beating around the bush, Bail, and tell me."

"A rebellion against the Empire," he said. "The deposing of Palpatine from his throne."

It was Obi-Wan who broke the silence after the momentous statement. "Are you out of your mind?"

"If we wait, the Empire will only grow stronger," Breha chimed in, holding onto her husband's hand in a show of solidarity. "If we start gathering allies and resources now, we can make a difference."

"I agree," Padmé said, looking Obi-Wan in the eye. "And I want in. Not as a secretive agent, on the run from the Empire. But exactly as I am: the Senator of Naboo."

There was a stunned silence for a moment. Padmé clutched Leia to her chest as if to brace for the onslaught that was coming.

And come it did. Obi-Wan's "Are you mad?" mixed with Breha's "Excuse me?" and Bail's shocked squawk to make for a very loud and indignant moment.

"You'll be _killed_ Padmé," Obi-Wan said. "Or arrested for treason. You weren't just a member of the Delegation - you were a _founder_. Palpatine will have you assassinated or arrested, and you're no good to us dead." His gaze flicked down to Luke. "Or to your children."

She gritted her teeth as he mentioned them, brushing her thumb over Leia's head and seeking out Luke with her eyes, but she barrelled on, "I won't be assassinated. Or arrested. The Emperor-" she ignored everyone's flinch at the title; it was who he was, and this entire endeavour was about changing that. "-won't want to upset or alienate Anakin. Once he knows I'm alive, Anakin won't let me die. You _know_ that's true," she added to Obi-Wan.

"But Padmé," Breha argued, "if you're on Coruscant before Anakin recovers from what Obi-Wan did to him, Anakin won't be able to save you, and won't ever know what happened to you. And do you really want to put the twins in harm's way?"

The twins again. Were they really these three's main argument for why she shouldn't do this?

"Do _not_ use my children as leverage against me," she said, voice low and cold. "Make no mistake, I am doing this _for_ the twins, so they have a better galaxy to grow up in than Palpatine could give them. If all goes according to plan, I'll only be on Coruscant for a few months at most, and I'm sure my sister could take care of them during that time."

Breha shook her head. "Your family on Naboo won't have the resources to keep them safe against potential assassins," she said. "We can take care of them here, on Alderaan."

Padmé nodded, knowing the woman was being truthful.

"So, what's your plan?"

 _Here we go_. Padmé sat up straighter, and lowered Leia into her lap, so she could gesture more dramatically. "As you said, Bail, I'm a beloved senator. The Emperor will want to use my death to fuel public opinion in his favour. My prediction is that he'll claim I was killed by Jedi."

Obi-Wan winced, but he didn't disagree.

"So we wait for him to make that statement," she continued. "We wait for Anakin to come back into the public picture, because Palpatine is _not_ going to let a propaganda opportunity like him being supported by the Hero With No Fear go to waste. It should take a few weeks at most. And then I come out of hiding, claim I was recovering from a traumatic experience and a subsequently traumatic birth, and call the man out on his lies.

"I accuse Anakin of the deed and ruin his image in the eyes of the people. Palpatine's Empire is already in question. That will make them weak, and then, Bail, you can gather your resources and your allies and your ships and attempt the coup I know you've been planning."

"I am a pacifist," Bail said defensively.

"As am I," she replied, "but I'm still prepared to wield a blaster when I need to." She looked around the room. "Is everything clear?"

Everyone nodded - except Obi-Wan.

"I do have one observation," he said. "This will ruin your relationship with Anakin."

She wanted to wince at it, but she schooled her expression into an emotionless mask. It was true. "I know."

Obi-Wan nodded slowly. Carefully. "And you're sure you're willing to do that?"

"As sure as you were when you cut off his limbs." He flinched at the reminder. "Anakin ruined our relationship himself when he nearly killed me and the twins. The blame is squarely on his shoulders."

She closed her eyes. "But. . . "

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. "But?"

She took a deep breath. "I believe there's still good in him."

There was a beat, then, "Padmé, Anakin is-"

"I know what he is. And I know there's still good in him." She brushed her thumb over Leia's head again as a reminder to herself of it. "When the time comes, he _will_ side with us. I am certain of that."

"Us?" Obi-Wan asked, a sad smile on his lips.

She closed her eyes. "Me," she conceded. "He will side with me."

Breha cleared her throat. "Anakin aside," she said. "I agree with Padmé. It's a solid plan. We just need to wait for the right moment to strike, and make sure she's in perfect health to carry it out."

"This is risky." Padmé shot Obi-Wan a glare, and he smiled. "But it could work."

She raised an eyebrow at Bail. "It seems to be the best course of action."

"Then we're decided." She smiled down at Leia, who opened her big brown eyes to stare up at her, waving a chubby fist.

"This is a lot of responsibility for you to carry alone, Padmé," Breha commented, dark brows knitting together in a frown. "Are you sure you'll be alright?"

"I'll be fine." Past events flashed to mind - the Naboo Crisis, the First Battle of Geonosis, her illegal meetings with Mina Bonteri, the mission with Clovis on Scipio. . . "It's hardly the first time, after all."

* * *

The fear in the room was tangible to those attuned to the Force. The terror of the officers lined up in orderly rows fed the Dark Side, and Ana- _Vader_ clutched it around him, feeling the power of it ebb and flow and swell, as he surveyed the gathered officers.

Their expressions were fixed and neutral, their postures impeccable, but that wasn't what he noted as he observed them.

Someone in here was behind the attempts on his life.

And he had no way of knowing which of the officers, all of whom had fought their way up through the ranks during the Clone Wars, all of whom would be bitter at his apparently instantaneous rise to power, it was.

Standing just in front of him on the dais, the Emperor opened his mouth to speak. "You are the elite officers of my Imperial military. You will form the core of our efforts to transform this galaxy into a place of peace, stability and prosperity for all."

Vader had heard Palpatine give these sort of speeches before, and Pad- _she_ had explained to him what he was doing. How it started with flattery, to win the crowd's respect and goodwill, then led into the unpleasant stuff later, either for effect, or to show a contrast.

Here, Vader knew, it was for both.

"Still, I understand that our shared vision remains new, and perhaps some elements of the hierarchy remain unclear."

His tone shifted then, from warm understanding and pride to a hardness that indicated no objections would be accepted.

"It is time to eliminate any confusion."

And Vader could feel the change in the officers as they heard the shift, and the foreboding that began to build in them, especially as Palpatine - _Sidious_ \- gestured towards him, and he took a step forward.

"This is Lord Vader."

The name dropped like a pebble into the silence. The Emperor didn't allow for too much deliberation on it before he continued.

"He speaks with my voice. A command from him is a command from me." He turned his head to give the illusion that he was looking each individual person in the eye. "Pass this information down to your men. All must understand."

And then the Emperor stepped back, and Vader stepped up to take his place.

He was silent for three cycles of his respirator, feeling the tension in the room build, then said, "Ferro. Bingan. Strephi. Azoras. Barokki."

There was a particularly large spike of fear when he said that last name, and he smiled under the mask, no matter how much it pulled on the still-painful wounds on his face.

"Step forward."

Hands trembling, trying to conceal their terror as much as possible, they did.

"Two attempts have been made on my life. Evidence suggests a conspiracy within the Imperial officer corps."

The fear increased even more, if that was possible, the officers wondering if he thought they were at fault.

He didn't. But that wasn't the point.

"I do not yet know the precise individuals behind these attempts. . ." he admitted, feeling the tension in the room relax infinitesimally, ". . .although I have my suspicions.

"It does not matter." His voice was dark and threatening. "I will survive. Every time, I will survive."

He reached out a hand. "But five of you, chosen at random. . ."

He closed his hand into a fist, dragging the five officers into the air by the throat and snapping their necks.

". . .will not."

After that introduction, he didn't need a conclusion. He just strode to the edge of the dais, and out of the room altogether.

* * *

It was three weeks before Padmé found herself well enough to leave the med bay, and another week before Bail called her and the twins out of the quarters he'd given them down to the living room he and Breha had.

He gestured towards the holoprojector, which Padmé realised with a jolt was showing a video from Naboo. She'd recognise the domes of her home planet anywhere.

"What is this?" she asked, settling down on one of the armchairs in the room, careful not to jostle the sling across her front that Luke and Leia were in too much.

"Your funeral," Breha said.

Startled, she glanced at the screen. Sure enough, there was the corpse of a woman who looked a lot like her lying in the coffin, hair curled and decorated with white flowers, face painted to disguise the fact that it was the wrong one. The woman's throat was left exposed by the blue dress she was wearing, and Padmé's blood ran cold at the sight of the bruises on it.

That woman wasn't her, but it certainly looked like she'd been choked to death as she nearly had.

"Who is it?" she asked sharply. "Who did Palpatine kill to make Anakin think he killed me?"

Bail pinched his lips together. "We think it was your handmaiden, Saché."

 _Saché_. She hadn't been in active service as one of Padmé's handmaidens since the Trade Federation's invasion of Naboo, instead serving as an alternate, or someone to be called on when needed. Why had the Emperor targeted her?

_Because she doesn't have a family left. Because she's not in active service, nor the public eye._

_Because she wouldn't be missed_.

There was a tight feeling in her chest. She couldn't _breathe_ -

And then she caught sight of someone else in the procession, and she wasn't sure her heart could beat, either.

"My parents," she choked out. "Sola, Ryoo, Pooja." Her sister had been crying, she could tell. And now Sola had to walk behind her "corpse" and watch as she was put to rest.

Her voice was quiet as she said, "You didn't tell them I'm alive?"

Breha shook her head. "It has to be a complete secret, Padmé, you know that."

She swallowed, and nodded. She did know that.

"Either way, it won't be a secret for long," Bail assured her. "Vader's been introduced to the galaxy; you've been proclaimed dead. Now it's time for you to get to Coruscant and call Palpatine out on his lies."

She didn't reply.

"Are you ready?"

She still didn't reply.

"Padmé?"

"Yes," she said quietly. Then, more fiercely, " _Yes_."

* * *

Coruscant was almost exactly as Padmé remembered it, although she wasn't sure why she was surprised. It had only been a few weeks, after all.

The only noticeable difference from space was the sudden influx in security. Security had been tight during the Clone Wars, but it seemed to be even tighter now, and even though the _Tantive IV_ 's transponder identified them as a Republic - now Imperial - senator's ship, the clone who hailed them on the comms still made it abundantly clear that they would be fired upon if they didn't transmit clearance codes immediately.

Captain Antilles transmitted the codes, apparently nonchalant about it, but Padmé was slightly shaken.

"Wait until you see the surface," Bail murmured.

She glanced at him, but he didn't say anything else as they broke atmosphere and Captain Antilles brought them in for a landing.

They didn't want to draw attention to the fact that Padmé was there until she made her speech in the Senate, so while she _was_ wearing one of her famously elaborate gowns, it was hidden by a heavy dark cloak, and while her hair _was_ in a fancy up-do at the top of her head, she wouldn't put the accessory on until she was in her pod in the Senate Chamber, when she finally _wanted_ to be noticed and recognised as Senator Amidala.

There were so many people in the hallways buzzing about the news even weeks after the proclamation, senators and officers alike, that no one gave Senator Organa and his "aide" more than a cursory glance. She made it to Naboo's pod quickly enough, and Bail paused just before he made to walk to Alderaan's, giving her a grave look.

"Good luck," he said, and the finality in the words scared her.

Nevertheless, she took a deep breath, and smiled. "I'll be fine," she assured him, then drew her headpiece from her pocket and fixed it to her hair.

Then she turned around, and entered the pod.

Palpatine was speaking from his podium in the middle of the room, with Vader standing behind him, but that was all Padmé managed to take in before her way was barred by Captain Typho and his guards. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but this pod isn't open to the public-" He broke off, staring at her. "My lady?"

"Yes, Captain," she replied, brushing past him to the front of the pod.

"Excuse me, my lady, but what-"

"You'll find out, Captain."

She undid the clasp of the cloak and let it fall to the floor. She was wearing the dark blue dress and jacket she'd worn when on the Loyalist committee, as a not-so-subtle symbol of her allegiances, and _Shiraya's word_ it was hot wearing it underneath such a heavy cloak.

She stepped up next to Jar Jar's position at the head of the pod; the way he gave her a curious glance, then a wide eyed one of exaggerated shock was almost comical. "Senator Padmé!"

"Hello, Jar Jar," she said quietly, wincing at how loud his exclamation had been. Some of the senators in the surrounding pods had heard it and turned to look; mutterings of "She's alive!" were breaking out, the word spreading.

She needed to make her speech _fast_.

She pressed the button that signalled to the Senate that she wanted to speak, and Naboo's pod hovered forward, into plain view.

Palpatine wasn't angled towards them, still giving his speech, so he didn't notice the mood in the room changing soon enough. Anakin seemed to - he was glancing around with that horrific mask of his, trying to ascertain the source of the dissent he could sense - but the Emperor was too busy glancing down at the datapad with irritation to see who had dared interrupt his monologue, then saying with a forced smile, "The chair recognises the honourable Representative Binks from Naboo- oh."

He cut himself off as he caught sight of her and Padmé, attuned to the slightest hint of an expression on his face, didn't miss the anger that contorted it before he smoothed it out again into an expression of relief.

Nor did she miss the way Anakin stiffened when he lay eyes on her, either.

"It is with great surprise and joy that the chair recognises the Senator from Naboo, Padmé Amidala!" Palpatine ploughed on, a beatific smile that almost looked genuine gracing his features. "Who apparently has defied death yet again."

Padmé ground her teeth at the words. She knew what he was referencing: the time from just before the Clone Wars, where Cordé was killed in an assassination attempt on her life. Palpatine had already announced Padmé's "death" to the Senate, and he'd greeted her with exactly the same words as he'd greeted her with today, just as fake the first time round as the second.

Well, perhaps he _had_ been glad she wasn't dead that first time. After all, how could he use her to get Anakin on his side if she was dead and gone?

She cast the thought aside; it didn't matter. It didn't matter, because Padmé had a speech to make, and a government to ruin.

"Indeed," she said, letting the microphone amplify her voice so everyone in the chamber could hear her. Anakin had barely moved since she'd made her appearance. "I'm sure it was with great surprise, Chancellor."

She saw the outrage that crossed his face at the title, but this didn't care. No matter what she'd told Obi-Wan, Bail and Breha, she knew full well this was a massive risk, and may well be the last speech she ever made.

So she might as well tell the truth. The _whole_ truth.

"I'm sure there's no doubt in any of your minds right now that the report our dear Chancellor gave about my death wasn't worth the datapad it was written on," she began, "but I'm afraid that the deception runs further than that, and I'm here to share everything I've learned about him since the proclamation we all remember.

"Firstly," she argued, "I would like all of you who support this man to ask yourselves this: If I stand here before you now, as healthy as someone could be several weeks after a traumatic birth, then whose corpse was it in the funeral procession? We all remember the report the Chancellor gave where he claimed that he recovered 'my corpse' from where the Jedi supposedly choked me to death with the Force. He even had several coroners examine it to confirm that it was, indeed, a woman dead less than forty eight hours. So _whose corpse was it_?

"I've contacted several of my old handmaidens, only to find that one of them, Saché, is missing," she continued. "I asked one of them to perform a DNA analysis of the corpse, and sure enough, it was Saché's body in the coffin. Saché, who was in perfect health, and who was reported to be missing around the time I was giving birth. She was last seen in the company of two clonetroopers who reportedly had orders from the Chancellor's Red Guards themselves."

It wasn't evidence for his evil, Padmé knew. It wasn't concrete, and it wasn't enough to condemn him - _especially_ when she hadn't gone into _how_ he killed Saché yet - but it was enough to sow doubt. It was enough to turn public opinion against him.

And he knew it. His jovial façade kept slipping, showing the glare and the ugly anger beneath. Knowing he was a Sith Lord, Padmé was half-afraid he would just reach out and choke her as Anakin had-

But he wouldn't. Because the holocams were rolling, and thousands upon thousands of beings were watching. To do so would be to kill public support altogether.

Even if he tried to decry her as crazy, or ill, or out of her mind, it would plant doubt in the listeners' heads. If she kept talking, he might find flaws in her argument (she and Bail had pored over it on the way to Coruscant; there were none), but until he'd heard the whole thing, he wasn't going to act.

More's the pity. That would make her job so much easier.

"Secondly," she continued, "I would like to address the other lies in his report of my death, namely the one mentioned earlier: that I was strangled to death via the Force." She paused to put her hands done on either side of the microphone and said in a flat voice, "I was not attacked by a Jedi.

"I was attacked by my husband."

There were gasps around the place, but she paid them no heed. She knew there'd been speculation on whether or not she was married since it became obvious that she was pregnant, and there was no point in letting the rumours run unchecked. Not when telling the truth could help her so much.

"The reason my marriage was a secret was because at the time of the wedding, my husband was a Jedi. It would have ruined both our careers. However, this is _far_ more important than two people's careers, so here it is: My husband, Anakin Skywalker, betrayed the Jedi Order. In the rage brought on by his. . . _indoctrination_. . . he lost his control and choked me, causing me to go into a violent and traumatic labour which I and my twin children barely survived. I have been recovering for weeks, which is why I was unfortunately not able to bring any of this to light any sooner.

"Nevertheless," she straightened up. "These are the facts: I was _not_ nearly murdered by the Jedi. I was nearly murdered by Anakin Skywalker, the man who stands as _our beloved Emperor's_ right hand man, the man who has been said to speak with the voice of the Emperor and his interests, who was given the authority of the Emperor himself." Her face contorted in disgust as she said, "The authority to murder his own men for an assassination attempt they were innocent of."

There were murmurs of dissent; it was clear that stories of what had happened when the cyborg monster was first introduced had already circulated. She paused, giving the listeners a chance to put the pieces together, then said, "I was nearly murdered by Darth Vader."

There was a silence as every eye turned towards Vader, who hadn't stopped staring at Padmé, helmet tilted upwards, unmoving. She couldn't see his face, but she could imagine the expression on it: one of absolute adoration mixed with betrayal.

"Preposterous!" someone in the Senate shouted. "We have no evidence that any of this is true!"

Padmé opened her mouth to argue back, but another senator had already moved forward into the debate, violet skin flushed and voice louder than Padmé had ever heard it.

"If we aren't going to believe Senator Amidala's word on its own," Riyo Chuchi asked, "then why don't we gain a second opinion from the man whom our Emperor himself has said speaks with his authority? Lord Vader," she said, her voice rising again, "is what Senator Amidala says true?"

Padmé saw Palpatine flick his gaze from where he'd been glaring at Chuchi towards Anakin, who remained stock still. "Which part would you like me to verify?" he asked slowly, not turning her mask away from Padmé.

Chuchi turned to look at Padmé, who took over again. "Did you or did you not attempt to choke me to death?"

There was a pause, then-

"Yes, Padmé," Anakin said, voice small and apologetic. It sounded strange through the vocoder. "And I'm-"

"Did you, or did you not lead an assault on the Jedi Temple and personally slaughter every youngling in the building, most of whom were under the age of twelve, and had no way of knowing of or assisting with the coup the Jedi were supposedly attempting?"

There were gasps at the seemingly random question, then gasps as Vader said, voice still small, "Yes, Padmé."

"And finally, Anakin," she said, "when a few select Jedi attempted to overthrow the Chancellor, was it, or was it not, an attempt in good faith - an illegal attempt, but one in good faith nonetheless - to remove a man whom they feared would become a dictator in his quest for control over the _Republic_ they held dear?" She put a slight stress on the word. _The Jedi believed in the same thing we do._

Anakin hung his head. "It was."

"And was Order Sixty-Six an order for the clones to murder every Jedi in existence regardless of their involvement or lack thereof in a coup that had no malicious intents towards the Republic to begin with?"

"It w-"

"Enough!" Palpatine shouted, that animalistic rage he kept so tightly controlled finally rearing its head. He glared at her, and even at this distance, she could see the yellow in his eyes.

His voice softened as he spoke to her, like a grandfather speaking to an overly wilful child. "You must be mistaken, my dear; you know I would never do such a thing! Perhaps the traumatic birth you speak of has addled your mind." His voice softened into faux fondness. "Tell me, are your twins well?"

Ignoring the implied threat, she answered sweetly, "They are very well, thank you, Chancellor, and I'm afraid I'm no longer certain about what you would or wouldn't do. But if you don't believe me," she addressed the rest of the Senate, "then I have a myriad of sources and contacts I can cite if you would like to view the evidence for yourself."

"Such as?" Palpatine asked.

"Such as I," Bail said, his pod hovering forward. "I, and my associates, all of whom have been instrumental in digging up the information Senator Amidala has shared, even after our esteemed Emperor put so much effort into burying it."

Palpatine stared at Bail Organa, and she could tell the precise moment he knew he'd lost. Padmé on her own may carry some weight, but she was known as being a champion of the Republic, a champion of morality; of course she would argue against the Empire. But Bail Organa was seen as a voice of reason.

If he said some facts were true, then they were true. There was nothing for him to dispute.

Palpatine had lost.

He met her gaze. She was too mature to show any smugness on her face, but she let the sense of victory shine through, the satisfaction in her win, and he snarled.

And Padmé was afraid.

If Palpatine couldn't take her Republic from her, he would take everything else he could. He'd threatened the twins, but he didn't know where they were; he couldn't hurt them. But Anakin. . .

Anakin was standing right behind him.

"Anakin, watch out!" she shouted, before anything could even happen, but it was a good thing she did.

Palpatine turned, raising his hand, and Anakin couldn't get his saber up in time. He was blasted by the violet lightning that shot from Palpatine's hands; he flew back to collide with the edge of the pod before bringing his saber up and deflecting most of it away from himself.

Seeing his last attempt at victory was over, before the clones could decide their loyalties were to the Republic and not to him, desperate to escape with his life so he could put into play another plot, another action, another coup, Palpatine ran to the edge of the Chancellor's pod and jumped.

He didn't hit the ground.

* * *

"Will Anakin be alright?" Padmé asked the medical droid anxiously the moment it left the med bay. It ignored her, instead hurrying off down the corridor to fetch whatever it'd gone to fetch.

"Your husband tried to kill you, and you're worried if he'll be alright?"

Padmé turned to meet Mon Mothma's eye. "I. . ." She paused. She couldn't say it was an accident; that would invalidate half of her speech.

She just didn't want to deal with this right now. She wanted to be back on Alderaan with the twins - no, she wanted to go home to Naboo with the twins and hug her parents, her sister, her nieces. She'd already fielded several tense calls from them, having to explain that everything was alright, absolutely fine, her children were doing fantastic and she _didn't know about her husband_. . .

She just wanted to be _safe_.

Padmé ran her hand through her hair; it'd come undone sometime after the Senate meeting, while everyone around her had been chasing after Palpatine. She wasn't sure what he'd done, but he'd pulled out a series of flips and Force pushes and somehow jumped from pod to pod all the way to the ventilation shafts in the floor, where he'd disappeared.

She wasn't sure how he'd fit _in_ the ventilation shafts, but. . . "How goes the hunt for Palpatine?" So long as he survived, he would never stop plotting against her Republic, and her.

Mon sighed. "It's going. I'm not sure what he did, but there are a handful of clones who are running after and defending him."

"And the rest of the clones?"

"They're giving chase," Mon assured her. "They haven't lost their allegiance to the Republic. Mas Amedda rescinded the order to kill all Jedi on sight, and now Master Kenobi has joined the hunt on Coruscant."

" _Mas_ _Amedda_ is helping us?"

Mon nodded. "He's suspected to be one of Palpatine's lackeys, or an enabler at the absolute best. But he's weak-willed. He's offering up Palpatine on a platter to save his own head. His cooperation in return for amnesty."

 _Amnesty._ Padmé glanced at the door to the med bay, an idea taking root in her mind, but first she asked, "So, the surviving Jedi can come back?"

"Already several of the surviving padawans have begun to do so - Caleb Dume is one of them, I believe." She paused, then said, "As is Ahsoka Tano."

" _Ahsoka's_ on Coruscant?" Padmé asked, probably a little too excitedly, but she'd loved Ahsoka. It'd broken her heart when the girl had chosen to leave - just as she knew it had broken Anakin's.

 _Anakin_. "Wait - does Ahsoka know about Anakin?"

Mon paused. "If she saw the broadcast, I. . . assume so."

Padmé winced. Poor Ahsoka. "Do you know where she is?"

"I heard she was helping scout out the Jedi Temple."

Padmé nodded. "I'll visit her once I've seen Anakin."

Mon glanced at the door. "Are you sure you _want_ to see him? He nearly killed you, Padmé."

Padmé swallowed, and shrugged. "He's my husband," she said by way of explanation.

"He'll probably be executed."

She winced. "I won't let that happen. Not that I'll abuse my status to bail someone out who deserves to be punished," she added hurriedly at the look Mon gave her, "but I'll see if I can arrange a suitable punishment that means he's still alive. My children deserve to have a father in their lives."

"I agree," Mon said, and she looked like she was going to say more, but at that point the medical droid that had left the room earlier came back down the corridor.

It paused just before entering the room. "We are currently operating on the patient, ma'am," it informed her in a monotone voice. "If you wish, we can contact you on your comlink once he's free to receive visitors, but until then I'm told that having worried family members nearby can be detrimental to a Force user's recovery."

Padmé bit her lip. "I understand." She narrowed her eyes at the droid. "You'll contact me the moment he gets out?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Okay then." She glanced up at Mon. "I'm going to find Ahsoka. I'll see you in the Senate later to elect the new chancellor."

"Indeed. And, Padmé," she called after her. Padmé paused, halfway down the corridor. Mon swallowed, then said, "I'm glad you're alive. I was worried I'd never see you again." She nodded her head towards her. "I look forward to serving in the Senate with you."

"Oh, Mon." Padmé laughed. "I have two children to raise, a husband with severe health problems, and lingering mental and physical health issues of my own. I'm in no position to rebuild a government. The moment we elect a new chancellor. . ." She shook her head. ". . .I'm kriffing resigning."

Mon laughed. "Then I look forward to seeing you as a friend. Goodbye, Padmé."

"Goodbye, Mon," she replied. "And may the Force be with you."

* * *

" _Padmé?"_ came the startled gasp. It drew her up short; she hadn't even reached the temple, she was still in the corridors of the Senate Dome, and yet here was-

"Ahsoka!"

She'd wrapped her arms around the girl before she had the chance to react, and felt Ahsoka tentatively wrap her arms around her in return. "I thought you were dead."

"And I you," Padmé replied, feeling tears prick her eyes. When she pulled back, she could see those tears mirrored in Ahsoka's blue eyes. "You got taller."

"Yeah, well. . " The girl looked down, then back up again. "It's been a while."

"What-" Padmé was almost afraid to ask, but she ploughed on anyway. "What happened on Mandalore?"

"Maul escaped," Ahsoka said flatly. "And then Order Sixty-Six rolled around, and. . ." She tried to shrug, but Padmé could see the weight that had settled on her shoulders. "Rex was the only clone in the regiment who'd dug out his chip. The rest of them turned on me. Rex and I had to fight our way out."

Padmé hugged her again, tighter this time. Ahsoka returned it just as fiercely. "I'm sorry, Ahsoka," she whispered. "I'm just glad you're alive."

"You're alive as well!" There was still wonder in the girl's voice, as well as relief. "And - what you said about Anakin-"

"Was true." Padmé winced as she said it.

"Oh." Ahsoka reached for her own throat, and it took a moment for Padmé to realise why. "You mean, even the-"

Padmé swallowed. "Yes."

Then there was a tentative hand touching her shoulder in a silent show of support. "I'm sorry," Ahsoka said. "Is Anakin. . .?"

"He's alive. He'd being operated on as we speak. Obi-Wan cut off three of his limbs and left him to burn, so that life support system was really necessary, and Palpatine's lightning damaged it badly." She took a breath. "I'm hoping to arrange something where he gets amnesty if he cooperates, like Mas Amedda did."

"You will? Even after he nearly killed you?"

Padmé just looked at Ahsoka. "Wouldn't you?"

The girl paused for a moment, then let out a breath. "I would."

There was something grave about the words, but Ahsoka didn't seem to want to dwell on it for too long. So she asked, with forced cheerfulness, "Did you say you'd given birth to twins?"

Padmé perked up at the mention of her babies, and nodded. "Yes. Luke and Leia." Her hand strayed to the pocket where her comlink was held. "Would you like to see them?"

Ahsoka's face broke out into a smile. "Absolutely."

* * *

The message came from the medical droid sometime while Ahsoka was still cooing over Luke and Leia. Padmé had asked if she wanted to come in with her, but Ahsoka had decided to stay and talk to Breha over the comms; she didn't want to intrude on Padmé's time with Anakin, and she didn't have anything she wanted to say to her old master at that moment in time anyway.

Padmé lingered by the doorway, nervous. Maybe she shouldn't be here. Maybe Obi-Wan was right, and her husband was lost. Maybe-

"Padmé?"

She cursed herself. Of course she should be here. Anakin was here. Anakin was in pain.

Anakin needed her.

"I'm here," she choked out, and stepped forward into his direct vision. He was a sight to behold, with all four of his limbs taken off and placed at various parts around the room. All his hair and half the skin on his face had been burned away, and a transparent oxygen mask covered his face.

But the eyes that looked at her, watery with emotion, were blue.

It was still her Anakin.

She sat down in one of the chairs next to his bed; she wasn't sure her legs would hold her for much longer. Since she walked in, she hadn't taken her eyes off him, nor he her.

"Padmé," he breathed.

That snapped her out of it. She shook her head, so many words coming to her tongue that she wasn't sure she could say them all. "Anakin. . ." She shook her head again. " _Why_?"

"Why did I attack you?" His voice sounded even smaller than it had without the vocoder.

"Why did you do _any_ of it?" She sighed. "Actually, never mind. I don't- I don't want to know."

"The Republic failed."

"Then we _make it better_!" she shouted. "If something isn't working, we _fix it_! We don't kill thousands of people and put a megalomaniac in power!"

"I. . . didn't know." He shook his head. "Padmé, you have to believe me, I-"

"I know." She ran a hand through her hair. "I know you didn't. But, _Anakin_. . ." She was horrified to find tears sliding down her face; she blinked her eyes to clear them. Anakin looked stricken, trying to lift his hand to wipe them away, only to remember that his prosthetics had been detached and that he didn't _have_ a hand. "Why did you do it?"

She wasn't looking for an answer, and he knew it. There was no answering that question. So he didn't offer one.

Instead, he said, "They're going to execute me, aren't they?"

"They might," Padmé said, "but I don't intend to let them. We're not going to lie about your involvement, but I _will_ see if I can get you a lesser sentence in return for your cooperation - exile from the Core Worlds, perhaps."

"Padmé, I can't-"

"At most you'll be charged for- what?" She ticked them off on her fingers. "Murder of several minors, murder of five officers, attempted murder of a pregnant woman," he flinched at that, "and I don't think they'll count the killing of the Separatist leaders. That was still during wartime. Palpatine was the one who instigated Order Sixty-Six, so that should be one of the crimes he's trialled for, and technically he didn't tell you anything about it so you can't be seen as an enabler."

She took a deep breath. "It's a lot of crimes, and it will be a heavy punishment, but you know a lot about Palpatine's government. If you do your part to disable it and make amends. . . exile might be a feasible punishment."

But Anakin shook his head. "Padmé," he whispered, "I deserve to _die_ for this."

"Perhaps you do," she admitted, unwilling to sugar-coat it, "but that would help no one. And then the information you could provide would be lost." He still looked sceptical, so she added fiercely, "This war and Palpatine's deceptions have torn too many families apart. I'm not letting it destroy mine. The twins deserve their father."

He looked up at that. "Twins?" he croaked. "You said, in the Senate, but-" He broke off. "What are their names?"

"Luke and Leia," she told him. "Obi-Wan tells me they're very strong in the Force. They'll need a teacher."

"Obi-Wan and Ahsoka can do it. They don't need me."

"They're _your_ children, Anakin. They need you." Then, more quietly, " _I_ need you."

His head jerked up at the words, his mouth falling open. He looked so lost, so vulnerable in that moment that Padmé wanted to cry.

Slowly, he nodded. "Okay," he said. "Okay. I'll live."

* * *

Senator Amidala stayed on Coruscant only as long as it took for the droids to rebuild her husband's prosthetics and reinstall them. Apparently they'd even made some upgrades; Palpatine had purposefully denied him the best treatment possible to keep him contained in the future, and they'd found that the burns were still fresh enough that they could begin to heal them.

Meanwhile, Padmé herself acted as a go-between from Anakin to the Senate, fixing the damage he'd wrought and securing his sentence. For the information he provided, he was exiled from all major political and economic worlds such as Coruscant, Alderaan and Corellia, but he was allowed to keep his life.

Once he was as healed as he could be, Padmé returned to Alderaan to pick up her children and say goodbye to Breha, then headed home to Naboo, where Anakin had already departed for. She didn't know what had been said between Anakin and Ahsoka, or Anakin and Obi-Wan for that matter, but she knew there was still tension there, and it would probably take years to resolve.

When she saw her parents, they cried. Her sister cried. Her nieces hugged the twins and wondered why everyone was crying.

They weren't thrilled to see Anakin - they'd seen Padmé's speech, as had what seemed like everyone else in the galaxy - but had to accept that he was a part of her life. He didn't try to socialise with them much anyway, instead going straight to the townhouse Padmé had bought to look around and making sure it was child-friendly.

So Luke and Leia grew up on Naboo, in a Republic slowly recovering from the events of the war. Padmé formally resigned as Senator, but she still saw Bail, Breha and Mon frequently and kept up with the political situation.

It was two weeks before the Republic rescinded the _capture only_ order on Palpatine and changed it to _kill on sight_. He was killed a week later, when he found that even he couldn't electrocute or choke four dozen clonetroopers all at once, any of whom could shoot him with a blaster from well outside of his lightning's range.

Anakin both cheered and cried when he heard the news. Despite the man's evil, he had loved him.

* * *

"Everyone likes to think their mother saved the galaxy," one of the twins' teachers said at some point.

Luke and Leia just shared a look across the classroom. _Yeah, but ours actually did._


End file.
